Just so long as I got a sweet mouthful of thick, creamy baby juice. I love it, I've always loved it, that slightly salty taste, the smooth consistency... like melted ice cream, only warmer and better.My hands played with his balls as he stroked it into me. Every stroke was accompanied by a loud grunt; it sounded as though I was watching championship tennis on television, except here the athlete had his pants on the floor. And in his hand was not a tennis racket but an erect penis. Well, actually,. Abject hatred. His words meant nothing, he could tell.It killed a part of him. But, it didn’t change anything.“You can move, but you can’t leave. You can’t call the police or tell anyone about what I can do, in any way. You can still hate me, but no more screaming,” he said from the bed, his head in his hands. “I’m going to leave, but you are not to do anything that might alert anyone to your being forced to stay here.”He was getting more used to the specifics of this power he had. He had to be. More

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